


God's Revolver

by NekoAisu



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Noir, Background Relationships, Drinking, Drinking & Talking, Flirting, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Smoking, Zine: Lucian Nights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:53:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21599752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NekoAisu/pseuds/NekoAisu
Summary: There are three things Nyx loves about his job: being held at gunpoint twice weekly, being able to smoke a pack a day, and knowing Crowe’ll put a bullet between the eyes of anyone that gets in his way.
Relationships: Crowe Altius & Libertus Ostium & Nyx Ulric, Crowe Altius & Nyx Ulric, Crowe Altius/Lunafreya Nox Fleuret, Libertus Ostium & Nyx Ulric, Lunafreya Nox Fleuret/Noctis Lucis Caelum
Comments: 5
Kudos: 8





	God's Revolver

**Author's Note:**

> My piece for Lucian Nights! I don't feel I did the theme justice, but I sure did try! Feel free to let me know what you think <;3c

If Nyx was being honest, rare an occurrence as that is, he’d admit to the six-and-counting times he’d falsified a police report. As it is, he has no plans to march right on up to his superior officer and declare, “Hey, about that case from last July─” like Drautos’s famously short temper would ever let him get away with it. 

Crowe pats him on the back, one hand holding a lit cigarette precariously, and asks, “Need me to bump ‘em, or are you looking to become a walking corpse? Last I heard, Besithia wanted you deader than a doorknob.” She inhales, cherry glowing bright in the low light of their corner booth, and raises a brow at Nyx’s put-upon sigh. She exhales, smoke spilling into the hazy air of Libertus’s backroom gentlemen’s club (granted it could even be considered an imitation of such). Inhales again. Exhales. “I hope you’ll cover my tab, Nyx.”

“Have I ever  _ not,  _ doll?” Crowe opens her mouth to recount the twenty-something times Nyx had left her to foot the bill after a late night at Lib’s and Nyx very pointedly slips from the booth under the excuse that he needs a drink or two (although, he’d much rather the number be far higher than a paltry couple of gin and tonics).

He passes a good number of his fellow officers (if the lot of them could truly be considered as such in the eyes of Insomnia’s high pillows) and blows a kiss at Luche specifically to watch him sputter through sixteen phases of lit-and-bewildered before his coworker’s face settles into one of his patented glares of self righteousness. Pelna tosses a cleanly rolled cigarette from his spot around the club’s beat up card table; there’d been multiple, once upon a time, but a series of drunken brawls had seen to their end. Nyx snatches it from the air before calling, “Thanks for the juju, Pel!”

He tucks the marajuana cigarette into his shirt pocket with a smile, sliding onto a barstool like it’s a throne and calls, “How’s it been, Libs?”

Libertus, for all his well-intentioned blustering, slides over a Sidecar and Southside─Crowe’s poison of choice─without being asked. He whips Nyx’s hands with the towel he’d been using to dry glasses when the man reaches over the counter to filch a couple wedges of lemon. “What’re you having, hero?”

Nyx laughs, smiling in the guileless way of a particularly coy bunny, and asks, “What do you recommend, bossman? I didn’t know we were doing nicknames today.”

Having known a good ninety percent of his regulars since before he even  _ considered  _ opening up his backroom to the late-night crowd of bent coppers and friendly pro skirts, Libertus has no problems mixing up another drink and placing it on the worn bar counter. “A Mary Pickford for your inability to not be a peacock,” he says with a grumble. “I thought you were planning to meet with that Highwind sister or somethin’ after the stunt you pulled with all that Chicago lightning back in Gralea.” 

Nyx takes a long (and very ungentlemanly) sip from his glass, fingers curled comfortable about the long stem like it was some sort of exotic flower. “Haven’t has this one before. What’s in it?”

“Pineapple juice, maraschino liqueur, grenadine, and—“

“White rum, right?” Nyx glances over to his new neighbor as if meaning to say hello and leave her an opening only to shut his mouth with a click. “There’s not much variety in Tenebraean parlors,” says Lunafreya nox Fleuret, dame of the century and rich socialite of the year, as if she should be drinking in the back room of a barely-reputable whiskey mill with no accompaniment.

Nyx has the wonderful (or perhaps terrible) opportunity to use one of his tried-and-true “101 Ways to Keep Women from Liking You” pickup lines when she hails Libertus for an aviation cocktail. “What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this, Miss Fleuret?”

She has the decency to look abashed before responding, “Drinking, just as you are. I’d been hoping to find a private detective to help me with a  _ very  _ personal case, but it’s not been going well.”

Nyx opens his mouth to reply when Crowe, having run out of both patience and smokes, saunters over to the bar in her usual slacks and button-up combo that sent men screaming and women swooning. She’d rolled up her sleeves long before Nyx had arrived and he notes how subtly Lunafreya’s eyes travel the entirety of Crowe’s body before settling on her face with something akin to surprise. 

“What’s taking so long, Nyx? Found a new friend?”

“Actually,” he says, sliding over her drinks and taking another sip of his own, “I think I just found  _ you  _ one.”

Crowe laughs and sits down with all the grace she can muster before asking, “Well then, hello to you, Miss?”

“Lunafreya.”

“That has a wonderful ring to it,” Crowe says without a hint of remorse for her obvious way of flirting. “I’d like to say it more, if you’d let me.”

Lunafreya giggles in the way high society ladies always seem to do, hiding a smile behind a carefully gloved hand, and agrees. “It would be nice to hear you call it. I’m looking for a private eye, you see, and it would seem Mr. Nyx—pardon me if that’s not the correct way to refer to you, sir—believes you know just the person for the job.”

Crowe grins in her usual lopsided manner and says, “You’re lookin’ at her, sweetheart. What can I do for you?”

Lunafreya holds up her right hand, engagement ring glinting brightly even in the low light of the bar, and downs the entirety of her drink in one go. She cracks open her purse, pulls out a worn photo, and places it on the counter. “I need you to find out who killed my fiancée.” Nyx and Crowe crowd around the pocket-sizes print and stare, jaws very near to dropping.

On the sticky, scratched up wood of the countertop, Noctis Lucis Caelum stares back.

**Author's Note:**

> hmu on:  
tumblr | kiriami.tumblr.com  
twitter | @FlamingAceKiri  
discord (FFXV Haven) | https://discord.gg/QGxvyD3


End file.
